


Through the Eyes of Nostalgia

by Fortheoneatopthecity



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game), Wraith: The Oblivion
Genre: AU, Character Death, Dark Character, Dark Past, Dark fic, F/M, Ghosts, Guilt, Implied Kinks Gone Wrong, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Love/Hate, Lovers To Enemies, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Past Violence, Referenced Gore, Reflection, Relationship Study, Revenge, Sabbat (Vampire: The Masquerade), Self-Reflection, Unhealthy Relationships, VTMB Clan Quest Mod
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:07:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24007096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fortheoneatopthecity/pseuds/Fortheoneatopthecity
Summary: It has been nearly two decades since Barbara turned her back on both the Camarilla and the Anarchs for the Sabbat.  The freedom to revel and master her beast came at the cost of her humanity and also the life she could've had with her lover, Nines Rodriguez.But while true love and hatred never truly die, neither do the damned even upon reaching their final death...
Relationships: Nines Rodriguez/Barbara, Nines Rodriguez/Original Character(s), Nines Rodriguez/Original Toreador Female Character
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	1. Her Decadent Passion

The moon was shining its silver rays through the window into Barbara’s darkened bedroom, illuminating the delicately decorated jewellery box on the nightstand, the golden flower accents turning into white gold in the moon light. Barbara gingerly traced along the edge of the jewellery box before lifting the lid. She was greeted by the familiar sight of her homemade pearl earrings fitted with those beautiful fierce sapphires that kept their colour even in the face of the moonlight. 

Picking them up, Barbara looked deeply into the sapphires, they gleamed of hatred, anger and perhaps even love. Even after all these years, these sapphires glared back at her with endless defiance, despite the fact their cause had long turned to dust. Tingles of human emotion stabbed at Barbara and nostalgic memories of how these earrings had come into existence flooded to the surface.

How long had it been since Barbara’s embrace and her entrapment into the Camarilla? It had to have been at least a decade, the pain and hurt that had occurred in those early nights were so distant now compared to the glorious present of the Sabbat. But even in those awful days of being under the thumb of the Camarilla and the pathetic begging to belong with the Anarchs, there had been some joy that had kept Barbara sane until Andrei had shown her the road to her true destiny. 

She closed her eyes, reliving the wonderful cruelty of making that music producer fall in love with her, getting him to overdose on as many drugs as he could take and his beautiful, desperate pleading for her to not forget him. He didn’t have to worry, Barbara never wanted to forget such a wonderful memory. Funny to think she had at the time destroyed him for money, two hundred measly dollars but yet, if she could do it all again, she’d do it for free.

But the most joyous thing then had been her time with Nines Rodriguez. She tenderly rubbed her thumb over the sapphires and sighed. Yes, Barbara’s relationship with Nines had started out as the beginning of a beautiful romance but then sadly turned into a tragedy, though there was such painful, wonderful beauty in that. Barbara knew that now, with time forcing the distance of those memories, it had been something she had needed to go through, to let go the unnecessary waste of humanity and to embrace the beast.

Looking back, they had been doomed even from the start. Nines had been her hardened, rebellious knight, promising a way out of the Camarilla into freedom. If only he had been willing to see the true path of freedom, accept that he was a monster and not be shackled by his humanity. But Barbara hadn’t known better then, she had been drawn into those fiery blue eyes of his and the unabashed willingness to fight for what was right, even as she had struggled to hold onto any sense of her humanity, pushing down any doubts and denying the beast as it bashed against the bars of its prison. Denying it had only made it easier for her to lose control rather than master it. Thankfully, she had managed to hide her frenzies from Nines and the rest of Camarilla and Anarch society.

Barbara had never told anyone about her frenzies and anyone that did know was unable to tell, as the beast satisfied its hunger on them. She had been too ashamed to admit the truth. Back then the only thing that soothed her guilt of being unable to rein in the beast was Nines’ kisses and the feel of his strong body against hers. She remembered how sweet and gentle Nines had been with her when they’d made love, never being too rough lest he break her with his Brujah strength, although Barbara knew even back then she was anything but easily breakable. LaCroix’s many deadly missions had been a trial of endurance and adaptability, they had given her the power and strength to be worthy to bear the fire of the Sabbat. 

The truth was Nines had been afraid of his beast. Even though the Brujah had been about passion and strength, he had feared it terribly. Barbara had never been scared of that fierce strength of his, secretly wanting him to release it upon her, translate it into never-ending ferocious love. She would’ve taken it on, Nines had just needed to not be afraid. Even before joining the Sabbat, Barbara had known the truth of that in those ignorant nights. She had asked Nines to not hold back with her, that she could give back as well she took. Nines had refused the first couple of times Barbara asked and so she stopped bothering him about it, knowing when he was truly ready to be truthful with himself, he would tell her.

And he did. The night they had made love for the last time, Nines had asked Barbara if she was still interested in him being rough with her. She remembered how her heart soared and the way his eyes brightened as she described what she wanted him to do. Instead of soft, caressing touches or even rough, commanding taking, their coming together would be a fight, whoever was strongest would take the loser as their spoils in whichever way they liked. 

Nines had let Barbara win the first round, claiming that she must’ve really taken on the hand-to-hand lessons he had imparted to her. But that excuse hadn’t fooled Barbara, either he was still too afraid to potentially hurt her, despite the fact she had twisted and broken his arm during the fight, or perhaps Nines had wanted to lose, to allow himself to submit to her whims. Although feeling annoyed with Nines for throwing the fight, Barbara throughly enjoyed having him under her, restraining his good arm as she took her spoils, hearing the blissful sighs leaving his contented, smiling lips.

However, in the afterglow, Barbara called out Nines for letting her win and demanded a rematch. He agreed to it with some hesitation. After healing themselves up, the fight was started again and with Nines no longer holding back, the odds were very much in his favour, though Barbara did remember she didn’t make it easy for him. But despite Barbara’s speed and gumption, Nines’ long-time experience of being in street brawls and his Brujah strength far outweighed hers and he brought her down to the ground with two broken arms and a twisted ankle. It had hurt like hell but it had been worth it to see those fierce blue eyes of his turn deadly and focus on taking her down and how they had burned with such passion as he finally took what she gladly offered in defeat. 

Barbara had never felt such satisfaction before and since that night, when they both took their willingly offered spoils from each other and she knew he’d felt the same way. 

But that humanity drenched nature of his reared its ugly head and Nines spent the next hour apologising for hurting her so badly to the point she couldn’t move right away. He felt even more guilty about getting her into trouble with LaCroix when he had called for her to perform another mission for him. Predictably the Ventrue Prince didn’t take it very well when Barbara had to tell him that it would have to wait until later as she was unable to use her arms properly. Thankfully, LaCroix had never asked Barbara how she had injured her arms so badly. After the Prince had ended the call, Nines nursed Barbara until her arms and ankle mended, although he tried his damnedest to convince her not to go and do LaCroix’s mission right away. But it was for naught as she reminded him how impatient the Ventrue could be.

The next few days before Barbara had seen Ming Xiao disguised as Nines leaving Grout’s mansion, he had avoided her and even when she did meet up with him, he had held her at arm’s length, shamefully unable to look at her in the eye. But it wasn’t out of disgust towards her but rather towards himself, for she could see in his aura the overwhelming deep red with thin spikes of blue and silver. Lust, love and sadness were what he was truly feeling.

If only she had just had the chance to talk to Nines about it… If only she hadn’t been dominated by LaCroix into willingly fingering him for Grout’s murder... If he had just been willing to face his fear of the beast and join her in the Sabbat... If only… There were too many maybes that Barbara knew she shouldn’t dwell on. Even when Barbara had joined the Sabbat and met Nines again in the compound of the burning Kuei-jin temple he had held back when they’d fought. Of course, he had claimed it was because his fight with Ming Xiao had tired him out, but she knew the truth, under the colours of black, red and purple had lain the everlasting spikes of deep red and blue. In spite of his angry, harsh words about how he should’ve never bothered with her, Nines had still cared for her. Barbara had felt the squeeze in her heart upon realising that fact, wanting so much more to bring him over to the Sabbat, so sure she could convince him of the wisdom of joining her.

But while Barbara was able to show the wisdom of the Sabbat to Damsel, Nines was too stubborn to listen. Even though his aura showed that he still wanted and loved her, the deep red and blue spikes were overcome by the oil slick of hatred, anger, bitterness and fear. Unlike the last time Nines didn’t hold back, although by then it didn’t do him that much good and after a long gruelling fight, she had at last brought him down. However, she didn’t kill him just yet… 

Nines had probably wished she had, although it never showed in his eyes, forever defiant even as he lay, cursing her. Barbara had been overcome by such beauty and knew she had to have a memento of that moment. He had glared at Barbara with such anger and hatred as she had pulled out her knife. His eyes hadn’t even widened in shock as she had brought the blade to his face, muttering under his breath with disgust that ‘of course a Toreador Antitribu would want to take a trophy off him’. 

It had been a bit of a struggle to hold Nines’ head still so she could pluck out his eyeballs but extracting those beautiful, defiant sapphires of his had been worth it. Blinded, Nines had soon started to slip into torpor, though when Barbara gave him one last kiss, he did kiss her back hard, his hand grasping onto her shoulder until torpor overcame him. 

If there was one regret Barbara had from that night, aside from failing to convince Nines to her side, it was that she never got the chance to devour his soul, make him one with her. That chance was stolen from her by Strauss lighting Nines’ body on fire, forcing Barbara to step back and watch her wayward love burn to ash. At least she had made that bastard Tremere pay in the end and the eyes had managed to remain intact during the fight. 

Barbara placed a kiss on the defiant sapphires glaring back at her. Even after all these years since having made Nines’ eyes into earrings, they had never lost the emotion of that night. She switched on the light and slipped the earrings on, admiring herself in the mirror with a grin. Yes, these would go with the dark blue cocktail dress she was planning to wear tonight perfectly.

After all, Barbara couldn’t show up at Archbishop Andrei’s home to witness his latest experiments looking like something the cat had dragged in.


	2. His Righteous Wrath

The wallpaper that lined the bedroom was peeling off and stained and rusted brown, the red bedsheets that covered the sleeping corpse had long since faded in colour and become worn and frayed. And the slumbering vampire’s black bobbed hair was littered with grey hairs and thinning out, her pale skin a sickly purple greyish shade.

It should’ve disgusted Nines to see his former love as the sickly dead corpse she was, but in spite of now being cursed to only view the living world as dying and falling into decay, he couldn’t take his gaze off her soft, pouty, deep pink lips, the gentle slim curves of her body and the peaceful dead-to-the-world expression on her face as she slept. She was still beautiful despite it all, goddamn Toreador! It almost made Nines forget how much he hated Barbara for destroying his whole life. Almost.

There had been a time Nines had cared for Barbara, maybe loved her even, but that had been before she had become twisted by the garbage the Sabbat had pumped into her brain. Back when she was forced to be under the thumb of LaCroix, her pale silver eyes so bright and innocent in the harsh world of the Kindred, back when Barbara hadn’t become the monster she was now, the monster that had destroyed the last of the Anarch Free States forever.

Nines seated himself on the edge of the bed and ran a hand along her arm. Pointless, as he couldn’t even feel Barbara’s no doubt silky soft skin, with him being a wraith and all. But yet, it brought a little comfort to him to do this, come to Barbara’s haven during the day and watch her slumber. He could’ve visited Barbara during the evening when she would be awake, but there was no way he’d risk that, for fear that her Auspex would alert her to his presence.

Nines mentally shivered at the horrible possibilities if Barbara were to catch him. He knew that Barbara still loved him or at the very least was obsessed with him, she still kept his eyeballs that she had torn from him on the night of his final death. The sick bitch had even turned his eyeballs into earrings that she wore on special occasions such as meeting up with the Archbishop, Andrei the Tzimisce, or when there was a blood sport game on. Funny, in a screwed-up way how he had to be somewhat grateful towards her for keeping his Fetter safe and sound. If Barbara knew he was a spirit and watching, she’d probably try to find some way for her to bind him for all eternity! He couldn’t afford for that to happen, not when there was so much to do before he could get his revenge on her. Hell, he was wasting his time even being here, watching her sleep like some creep!

But Nines did not move from his spot. It was early, about eight in the morning, her ghoul, Heather, was still curled up beside her mistress like a pet. Perhaps it was the nostalgic memories that made it hard for him to get on with today’s business.

Again, there had been a time Nines had cared for Barbara, probably ever since he saved her for the second time from those shovel heads. He would never have imagined that after being nearly ripped apart by those brainwashed fucks that she’d end up joining the Sabbat. But what the hell did he know? Not as much as he would’ve liked, it seemed.

Back then, Barbara had been so alive for a Kindred and, thanks to her Toreador nature, her skin so hot to the touch. It had been easy to forget that she was no longer human. But what had really drawn him to Barbara had been the incredible passion she had, for more than art, for change and freedom from the Camarilla. Barbara had once told him that she’d do anything to free LA from the Camarilla. And Christ, was that a monkey’s paw of a wish if he’d ever seen one! Sure, the Camarilla hadn’t been in control of LA for nearly fifteen years at this point but no fucking way was it better under the Sabbat.

When Nines had first found out that Barbara had joined the Sabbat, he hadn’t wanted to believe she could be that stupid. But with Isaac and Jeanette having been diablerized by her and Ash missing, he had been forced to accept the reality. It had hit him so hard to see Barbara again, with her pack in tow, her silver eyes filled with a predatory, barely held back hunger that had sent shivers down his spine. Seeing Barbara again had also filled Nines with so much rage and hatred towards her. He had said things to her that he didn’t a hundred percent mean, like that he should’ve never have bothered saving her. Barbara had snidely countered that he must’ve agreed with LaCroix then, taunting him by saying that he was quickly becoming the Prince’s bootlicker.

Just even remembering that night at the burning Kuei-jin temple made Nines feel sick with guilt, he’d give anything for Skelter to be alive again. Hell, he’d willingly get taken by Oblivion if it would fix the mistakes he had made. Whilst Nines had been worn out from killing Ming Xiao, the damned demon priestess was fucking harder than he could ever imagine, she had been nothing compared to the horrifyingly fast speed, overwhelming presence and deadly aim Barbara had demonstrated that night. Barely a few minutes had passed before Skelter and Clara, one of LaCroix’s Ventrue that had broken off ties to her boss to help him, were reduced to burning ash. Nines and Bertram Tung were the only ones left and had no choice but to retreat, lest the key fall into the Sabbat’s hands.

**_If only you had just given Barbara the key... Maybe if you had gotten Skelter and Clara out there when things were starting to look bad... If only you had just been strong enough to defeat Barbara…_ **

Nines gritted his teeth, got off the bed and walked towards the dirty wooden nightstand caked with blood, trying to shut out the taunts of his Shadow. When he’d finally reached his final death, Nines had hoped that he wouldn’t come back as a wraith, a restless spirit, doomed to roam the mortal realm. God, he had no idea how much worse it could be! You would think that once you were truly dead, that the political bullshit wouldn’t be a factor anymore, but fuck no, even then you still had to worry that some elder wraith might come along and enslave you! And now his Beast was replaced by the Shadow, the darker side of himself, that wanted nothing more than to sink into Oblivion. Like hell, he’d let them take him to Oblivion before taking his revenge!

Glancing back at Barbara, Nines felt a emotional pulling, a flash of memories of better times. Of nights when she wasn’t at the constant beck and call of LaCroix, when they would just lay on the rooftop of the Last Round, holding each other and staring up at the night sky. Or the times they made love, softly or roughly, however Barbara had wanted, he had been happy to give to her.

Although there was one thing Barbara had desired that had made him hesitate. She had wanted to fight him in a brutal brawl and whoever won could do whatever they wanted sexually to the loser, the terms of the winner’s prize would have to be agreed upon beforehand and since they were Kindred it wouldn’t be too bad as healing from broken bones was much quicker than for a normal human.

But even, with those points in mind, the idea of fighting and then beating his lover and taking her in consensual-non-consent role play had made Nines feel deeply uncomfortable and not just at the idea of it in itself but rather his physical and mental reaction to it. Deep down he had wanted to do such things to Barbara, but even with her enthusiastic consent, he just couldn’t bring himself to fulfill her request. His very real fear of hurting Barbara badly played heavily throughout his mind, no matter how much she pointed out that LaCroix’s little suicide missions had toughened her up. But Nines had been doubtful, her slim frame suddenly looking so fragile that one wrong touch might make her shatter into so many pieces.

She had stopped trying to convince him after a couple of times when he had asked her to drop it and Nines had felt relief at her not pushing the idea any further. But even without Barbara bringing it up, Nines’ mind had kept churning with the idea. It didn’t help that there were small whispers from his Beast, encouraging him to go along with the idea. However, Nines had shut down any suggestions from his Beast, knowing it wasn’t really rough sex it was looking for, but a chance to satiate itself on Barbara’s blood. It had been disturbing how vocal his Beast was when he was around Barbara, perhaps even then his Beast could sense a fellow Kindred that was allowing the Beast to control her.

In the end he had decided to have a go at this hard fight-and-fuck idea of Barbara’s, fully intending to throw the fight. Of course, it had taken him a little back how easily she had twisted and broken his right arm using his own weight against him. And while the sex with Barbara taking charge had been great, probably the best he’d ever had, he had seen a glimpse of annoyance in her eyes. Nines had guessed that his little ruse hadn’t fooled her as much as he had hoped. She had confirmed as much during the afterglow when she had called him out for letting her win and demanded a rematch. Despite feeling a lot of hesitation, Nines had agreed. He wished he hadn’t.

While Barbara had been damned fast, courageous and never gave up even when the fight was clearly not in her favour, it hadn’t been enough against his Brujah strength and experience in brawls. He still felt sick at the memory of breaking both of her arms and twisting her ankle when she had tried to kick him in the balls. He should’ve let her. Nines knew he should’ve just twisted her arm and declared himself the winner but once he had actually given his all, his mind had become blinkered, taking her down like any other foe. It had been like he wasn’t himself in that fight.

But Barbara hadn’t complained about him breaking her arms, rather she had a big smile on her face and had seductively asked him to take his ‘spoils’. He had done as she asked and lost himself into her, his whole being focused only on chasing his and Barbara’s pleasure. Again, as with the sex with Barbara in charge, he’d never felt such amazing pleasure as he fucked her and from the ecstatic cries and moans of pleasure, Nines knew she had loved it as much as he did.

However, once the orgasmic haze had worn off, the sickening guilt of hurting his lover so badly even though she had literally asked him to, had sunk in and Nines had spent the next goddamn hour annoying Barbara with his unwanted apologies for breaking her arms and twisting her ankle. But how could he not feel bad, when it had taken her a while to be able to move again? He could tell she had been ready to lose her temper when, ironically to Nines’ relief, LaCroix had phoned her, demanding she do another mission for him. The asshole had not been particularly understanding about her being unable to move right away but Barbara had managed to soothe the sulky Ventrue by saying she’d get the job done as soon as she was able.

Nines had nursed Barbara by pouring bags of vitae and even some of his own blood down her throat to hasten the healing of her limbs, all the while trying to convince her to put off doing LaCroix’s task until the next night. But she had pointed out how impractical it was to keep the prick waiting.

The next few nights after that, Nines had avoided Barbara, unable to cope with the shame of injuring her so much. Couldn’t even look in her pleading eyes, begging him to tell her what was wrong and what she could do to fix it. If only he hadn’t become so self-centered about his guilt, maybe, just maybe she wouldn’t have turned to the Sabbat. If his head hadn’t been so far up his own ass, he could’ve seen the signs of Barbara’s rapid loss of humanity.

Nines winced at himself, how could’ve he have been so blind to the fact that Barbara had been losing control over her Beast? Losing her humanity? How could he have ignored the growing intensity and hunger in her silver eyes or her callousness when she talked about people? Had his love for Barbara made him so blind to the glaring red flags flapping in his face? Or rather his unwillingness to admit there was a problem with her and the only way he could’ve done something about it would have been to put her down? At first, Nines had blamed LaCroix for his lack of responsibility in his care of Barbara, for not doing more to help keep her humanity. And while it was true that LaCroix certainly deserved a big share of the blame for how Barbara had turned out, yet the other half of the blame lay at his own feet.

During the negotiations with LaCroix and Strauss, Nines had claimed that the Ventrue Prince was personally responsible for Barbara turning to the Sabbat, to which LaCroix had cruelly pointed out that maybe if Nines had truly cared that much for her then he would’ve simply taken Barbara as his adopted childe after standing up for her instead of just leaving her to fend for herself under the Camarilla and then maybe none of this would’ve happened. Negotiations broke down shortly after Nines had attacked LaCroix in a rage. But the thought he was to blame for Barbara’s behavior had stuck heavily in his gut.

There were some Anarchs that had blamed Nines for the mess Barbara and the Sabbat were causing, whispered that if only he hadn’t so foolishly stood up for her at the trial then this wouldn’t have been happening. The two-faced motherfuckers! Of course, they quickly shut up when Nines reminded those fucks that the Camarilla was always willing to take in backstabbing shitheads if they had a problem with him. Although Damsel never said it, Nines wondered if she had blamed him too, especially after Skelter’s death. Maybe that was why she had been so swayed by Barbara’s words, enough to turn against him at the chantry. Maybe that was why Jack had abandoned them too.

Nines was just thankful that Skelter hadn’t suffered the same misfortune as himself and become a wraith, perhaps his soul was at rest for having done all he could. The same couldn’t be said for Nines, the never-ending regrets of his role in the destruction of the Anarchs weighed heavily on his shoulders. The only way he could rest was to destroy the Sabbat. Sure, it might open up LA to the Camarilla, but the Anarch Free State had risen from under the foot of the corrupt before, maybe they could again. But that might be wishful thinking.

Though it had hurt Nines to face Barbara again in battle, his love for her had been smothered by the loss of his friends and he had been determined to break more than just her arms. They couldn’t let her have the key. Maybe he should’ve just given Barbara the damned key, knowing what he knew now, that she all had intended was to destroy the accursed sarcophagus.

But he hadn’t known better then and had fought his former love with all his might. But even his Brujah strength had been no match for her speed and true aim and soon Nines had been on the ground, unable to stand, laying in an ever-growing pool of his own blood. But never one to submit in the face of defeat, Nines had cursed Barbara as she approached him, saying he wished he had never loved a monster such as her. She hadn’t seemed phased by his words, instead staring at him with that faraway gaze Toreadors sometimes got when viewing something they considered truly beautiful. Too bad no-one had been able to take advantage of her momentary dazed state, they had been too busy being cut up and shot at by the rest of her pack.

Barbara had muttered something under her breath about how beautiful the suffering, hatred and determination were in his eyes. If he could’ve, he would have rolled his eyes at her when she pulled out her knife. Of course, Barbara had wanted to pluck out his eyeballs as some sick trophy, like the stereotypical Toreador Antitribu she had become. Even though Nines had felt the fog of torpor threatening to take over, he had struggled against Barbara’s grip on his hair as much he had been able, but in the end, she had plucked out both of his eyes and as torpor had finally been taking him, had given Nines one final kiss. Despite his hatred for Barbara, he had kissed her back hard and gripped onto her shoulder, until he had finally blacked out.

When Nines had come to in the Shadowlands, he had been surprised that she had chosen not to diablerize him. Of course, later he had found out that Barbara had indeed intended to devour his soul, but he had been saved from that when Strauss, seeing her distracted, had set fire to his torpored body, effectively giving him final death. And yet, even reaching final death hadn’t truly been the end for him. In a way it had been a good thing, it had given Nines the chance to plan out his revenge on both Barbara and the Sabbat. Once his plan had been put into motion, the Sabbat would be nothing more than a black smear in Kindred history.

Nines sighed. Going back over to Barbara, despite the rotten and dying appearance of her sleeping form, she was still beautiful, he curled a hand into a fist. One day, he’d be free from this existence and that would be the day when Barbara would finally pay for her crimes.


End file.
